


Silent Night

by Haybop86



Category: Constantine (TV)
Genre: Fluff, One Shot, Some bad language, cos Constantine has a potty mouth, festive happy feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 06:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2722370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haybop86/pseuds/Haybop86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because on special nights Chas will stay over and it becomes a tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Night

 

* * *

 

Occasionally Chas stayed over on those special nights, where it was never very nice to be on your own, and soon a tradition started - that Zed is included in this year.

 

* * *

 

 

John was lying on the bed, fast asleep and spread out to take up as much space as possible. He barely made any noise when he slept, which meant sneaking into the bedroom was a bit more difficult. However Chas had gained some very good sneaking skills from hanging around with John so much. He deftly maneuvered around the empty bottles on the floor, not as haphazardly placed as the one that had slipped out of John’s hand when he fell asleep, and carefully tip toed over the wire strung from a chair leg on one side of the room to the old dresser on the other. No doubt there were cans attached to that.

 It had become a tradition for Chas to try this every year and, after the first two years of John not being woken up by an intruder in his room, it soon became tradition for John to try and catch him. Fortunately Chas was just too good and John had yet to resort to anything bordering on the supernatural for his traps.

 The battered, old stocking hung from his hand as he carefully edged around a box that had been ‘carelessly’ left out for someone to trip over and the marbles were an old trick that Chas’s young cousin used to use to try and catch him. He had only fallen, literally, for that once and now spotting them was like a sixth sense to him. He drew closer to the bed trying to spot somewhere to lay the stocking without waking his sleeping friend, made difficult by his current position.

 Finally, spot found, Chas turned around to leave John to his sleep. He managed to once again avoid all the traps on the way back as well as the general trip hazards that were a part of Johns room: clothing, different bits of occult tools in various states of repair and a full ashtray which Chas picked up to empty on his way out . He closed the door behind him, John still asleep and the hardest part of the mission accomplished. Leaning down he picked up the other stocking, on his way to add someone else into their tradition.

 

Zed’s room was a completely different story, easy to walk into and no traps to worry about. Apart from a few sketches that had made their way from the desk to the floor it was pretty much spotless. Of course she wasn’t trying to catch ‘Santa’. Maybe next year she might join in, but for now it was a simple case of sneaking in, carefully placing the stocking on the end of the bed and sneaking back out again. Zed was bundled up on one side of the bed, all small and quiet with her hair spread out in curls and ringlets almost covering the pillow. Her arms hugging the pillow, lying on her side she had a blank, not quite peaceful yet still untroubled look on her face. Chas wondered if that look would still be there next year, if she would still be with them next year or if this darkness would have got her or, at the very least, scared her off.

 

Readjusting his Father Christmas hat he made his way back through the living area and towards the kitchen unit where the christmas cookies had been iced after cooling and where he knew there was a bottle of whisky John hadn’t spotted, mainly because Chas had hidden it on top of one of the cupboards.

 Grabbing one of the un-iced cookies he’d set aside and pouring himself a tumbler of scotch he sat down on one of the old, worn arm chairs and enjoyed the feeling of a job well done.

True the christmas tree was a bit small and measly looking and its decorations left a lot to be desired but Chas was a firm believer in it being the thought that counts, and John had yet to really complain about it. They may not have decked the halls but, amongst the cluttered state of the cabin, the tree still stood out just waiting to surprise John and Zed tomorrow. Even if John was expecting it, even if sometimes he were still too tired or hungover to pretend shock and awe first thing in the morning, Chas knew he still appreciated it.

 

The next morning Zed woke up with an unfamiliar weight at the foot of her bed. Stretching her legs out gently she felt a lump that rustled upon being prodded. Finally opening her eyes she sat up and looked at the festive coloured stocking that had appeared overnight. It had been so long since she had ever had a stocking, or even celebrated Christmas, that for a moment she wasn’t sure what to do. Then the moment passed and suddenly she was a little girl again, eager hands grabbing for the woollen clad bounty; feeling the unmistakable shape of a satsuma filling out the toe with unnatural shaped points and bulges the rest of the way up.

 Pulling on a dressing gown she made her way out of her room and moved towards their living room, wanting to share her excitement with her new friends. The sight that greeted her stopped her in the doorway in surprise. There was Chas with a santa hat askew on his head and wearing a large, thick green jumper, fast asleep in an armchair in front of the fireplace. At his side was an empty whisky glass and a half eaten plate of cookies.

 

“Ev’ry bloody year! What’s the point of him even havin’ a sodding room here if he falls asleep in the chairs.” John had walked up behind her, messy hair and two day’s worthof stubble matching the old t-shirt and  pyjama bottoms that he was wearing. She noticed he carried a full stocking in his left hand whilst the right one was holding an already opened candy cane.

 

John made his way into the kitchen and, not knowing what else she should be doing on Christmas morning with Chas still asleep in the chair, Zed followed with the stocking still clutched in her hand. There were christmas cookies on the counter, all iced; all the christmas trees had baubles and the reindeers all had red noses, even father christmas had a white pom pom on the end of his hat. John was moving around, still holding on to his candy cane and giving it the occasional lick, as he started making up a pot of coffee. Zed grabbed a christmas tree cookie and sat down at the table, stocking now lying on the table top, not wanting to make too much noise to wake up Chas.

 

“So this is something you’ve always done?” she asked to John’s back as he grabbed three mugs out of the cupboard.

 

“Yeah, he said something ‘bout getting in the christmas spirit, even just once a year and next thing I know I’m waking up with a sodding stocking on my bed and ‘little drummer boy’ playing through the cabin.” John griped, but didn’t admit to how at home that had made him feel, “He’s been doin’ it the last five years now.”

 

“Six, actually, and is that coffee I smell?” Chas had been woken up by the aroma of freshly brewing coffee and the traditional sound of John griping about Christmas. He was glad to see them both up and made himself comfortable at the table across from Zed. “He always complains but I’ve yet to have him refuse my christmas dinner.”

 

Soon there there were three mugs of steaming hot coffee in front of three friends enjoying the quietness of a christmas morning with no big bad to go out and hunt.

 

“Oh by the way, has John told you about the christmas sweater tradition?”


End file.
